


Taking It Slow

by youliveyoulearn



Category: Jagged Little Pill - Morissette & Ballard/Morissette/Cody
Genre: F/M, Past Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youliveyoulearn/pseuds/youliveyoulearn
Summary: In the early months of her relationship with Steve, MJ learns to trust again.
Relationships: Mary Jane "MJ" Healy/Steve Healy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Taking It Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: MJ has graduated from college. Steve is in law school. 
> 
> (TW for past sexual assault but nothing in detail. Also some sexual content but nothing intense.)

Their first two months of dating, MJ and Steve never saw the inside of each other’s apartments. They always went out to eat, or to a movie, and one nice afternoon they’d gone biking. Afterwards Steve would usually ask MJ if she wanted to come over, and she’d say no, the thought of it making her uneasy, as much as she hated to admit it even to herself. But after a while, she’d realized she was starting to trust Steve in a way she hadn’t expected to. He was so gentle, and there was this thing in his eyes when he looked at her that made her feel like he saw something she didn’t. She often wondered what on earth he was seeing when he looked at her like that, but whatever it was, it made her blush. In the beginning, she’d been worried that Steve was far more into her than she was into him – she thought he was cute, and sweet, but she hadn’t fallen head over feet for him at first sight the way he seemed to have with her. But it was really hitting her with time how serious her feelings were getting. The way her heart pounded when she felt his foot brush up against her leg under a table at dinner, the way he’d put his hand on her knee at the movies and she’d completely lose track of the plot because she was so busy feeling him touch her, the way he’d pop up in her dreams almost every night. 

She’d also been worried, at first, that Steve might lose interest fast if he realized MJ wasn’t going to sleep with him. Then a few months had gone by and he hadn’t even broached the subject, seeming perfectly satisfied with nothing more than long, passionate kisses as they said goodbye at night. This was comforting to her. He was probably just assuming she was still a virgin, wasn't ready, and was following her lead, and she was happy to let him keep that assumption. It meant he hopefully wouldn’t pressure her into anything she didn’t want. Not that she didn’t want to sleep with Steve. She very much did - eventually. Somewhere in the future. She thought about it a lot – all the time – but it was an unrealistic fantasy, she knew. A lovely idea, but she just didn't think she was ready for that. She couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t totally freak out on him. She would probably be fine, but in case she wasn’t, she was sure one of her full-fledged meltdowns would scare Steve off for good. Steve thought of her as normal, sane, totally in control. She’d been doing really well this past year and was finally feeling like she’d moved on, and it was amazingly comforting to her that Steve didn’t know, and would never know, what had happened to her. That was the past. Steve was her present, and maybe her future, and she was determined that he would only ever know this new MJ. Finally, after two months, when Steve had taken her out for Thai food and then asked if she wanted to come back to his place, she’d said sure, okay. She’d been surprised by how comfortable she felt when she got there, despite the… implications of going home with him. 

He had offered her a glass of cheap wine which she’d turned down. They had cuddled on Steve’s tiny couch for a bit, before she decided to be bold and rolled on top of him, kissing him firmly and sliding her tongue into his mouth. They made out for a while, MJ enjoying the thrill. Steve seemed genuinely surprised by her enthusiasm. She was feeling more and more comfortable, noting vaguely in her mind that this felt far safer than she’d expected it to. She didn’t want it going too far, but maybe she could push herself just a little tonight, see if she could take it a step farther. Steve seemed relatively immobile, so she reached down and grabbed both his hands, guiding them up to her chest, wanting to feel his touch on-

“MJ,” Steve broke off from her kiss, breathless. There was an awkward silence. “You're... you've never had sex, right? I mean, I...”

“Oh,” she responded, equally out of breath. She wasn't expecting to be asked outright, and had no idea what to answer. He was expecting a simple answer, surely, and her history was so much more complicated than that. “Um, I have, actually, but... A really long time ago. And it was terrible.” There. Not a lie, though not really the truth either, but hopefully it would serve as a decent explanation for her trepidation.

“Oh, okay,” he smiled. "Good to know."

She didn't need to ask about his experience - she knew enough from mutual friends and information she gathered when she was first dating him to piece it together. But she was glad she had put a little more information on the table, as embarrassing as it was. There was something about Steve that made her feel like she can tell him things. Not _everything,_ of course, she still had her secrets, but little feelings that normally she wouldn't dare say out loud just came out easier with him. "I'm a little nervous, to be honest, so I'm not quite... ready yet. I'm sorry," she said quietly.

The moment was broken now, and MJ snuggled back into his arms, leaning her weight against his chest.

“We’ll take it slow,” Steve whispers. "Whatever you want." She took a deep breath, almost a sigh of relief. She knew he had no idea how much those words meant to her, but she could feel the butterflies in her stomach that had arisen when he stopped their makeout session starting to settle again. Just a year ago, she was absolutely certain she would just never have sex again - she'd it just seemed impossible. For the first time, now, she was starting to think she just might be able to trust Steve enough to try. Eventually. 

\---

They’d done this a few times, returned to Steve’s place, made out on the couch, almost a routine. She enjoyed guiding his hands around her, feeling his touch while always maintaining control. It was nice, romantic. Never scary. After a while, he’d started asking if he could come over. She had no idea why this made her so hesitant, but she put it off as long as she could. It felt so personal, and for some reason she had a feeling this was a big step. She finally agreed to make him dinner one night at her place, picking a night she knew her roommate would be out. 

MJ probably spent a total of five hours cooking before running out of extra things she could add to dishes to keep filling her time. She loved to cook. It was her go-to stress relief tactic – not that she was stressed, she told herself – and today she was especially on fire. Steve had told her he’d be over at 6:00pm, which gave her about an hour before his arrival. She had run out of things to clean, too. That’s what she had been doing for the four hours before she had started cooking. 

By the time Steve rang her buzzer, at 6:00pm exactly (he’d probably been waiting outside, not wanting to be early, she thought), she had set her small kitchen table for them with her favorite dishes and lit candles. She was a little insecure about her place, her stuff, her furniture. Steve came from money and had a nice little apartment, while MJ’s parents could not afford to offer her any financial help (and even if they could, they wouldn’t have – her mother did not approve of MJ’s decision to leave her family behind and move to the city). Her nervous energy spiked as she led him to the kitchen, not daring to look behind at him as he walked through her place. 

“Holy shit, MJ,” Steve said, entering the kitchen and seeing her meticulously laid out table. 

“This is… amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I like to cook,” was all she answered. 

“Geez.” They sat down together, Steve looking at her with absolute awe, MJ looking down at her plate with rosy cheeks. He was impressed with her. The thought made her stomach bubble with excitement and pride. 

Dinner was sweet, uneventful. Steve complimented her cooking approximately 400 times. MJ couldn’t shake the feeling that this night felt different, somehow, in a good way. She knew now, decidedly, that she had never felt this way. She’d had boyfriends she liked, a long-term high school sweetheart she’d lost her virginity to, but none of them had ever made her feel quite like this. Steve looked at her with those brown eyes and she felt like she would never be unhappy ever again. That’s what it was, she thought to herself. With Steve, she finally felt like her life would turn out good, even amazing. That everything would be okay. 

They did the dishes together. He insisted upon doing them for her, and SHE insisted she could do them after he left, and they compromised on together. And then they were done that, and they stood there, not quite sure what to do next.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Steve asked.

“Do you wanna… come to my room?” MJ asked in response. He smiled. 

Their usual routine, only this time in MJ’s bed. They made out. She took his hands and explored her body with them, sensing his touch, getting more and more excited, feeling that he was too. Her breathing was shallow.

“Do you want to-?” He asked, pausing for a moment. MJ nodded, trying not to look nervous, probably not succeeding. She smiled at him, and he smiled in return. Suddenly, he was in motion, and not at the relaxed pace she was used to. He unzipped his pants, sliding them off before fumbling with hers. She clearly was not the only one nervous. She felt an intense wave of anxiety run through her, her heart rate speeding up as she felt his hands move to undress her. Okay, this was moving really fast. She wanted to take her own clothes off, didn't want him to do it for her, but she suddenly found herself almost unable to move. She tried her best to breathe normally, wanting to speak up. 

He kissed her again, taking her pants off, which really stirred something in her - something bad. She really didn't like being undressed by him, wishing desperately she'd had the good sense to say that beforehand, and he also now seemed to have a lot of his body weight on top of her. Okay, she REALLY did not like that. Her breathing was now way too fast, knowing she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. This wasn’t good. For some reason, he didn't seem to be noticing she wasn't enjoying this, too focused on himself, but after a few more seconds it registered with him that she had become immobile. 

“Is this okay?” He asked nervously, lifting himself off of her a bit, giving her a bit of space. She exhaled, her breathing coming back now that she wasn't being pressed into the mattress. Her pants were off but she was fully clothed otherwise, while Steve was now naked, clearly awkward. 

“Yes,” she said without thinking. It was fine when he wasn’t pinning her to the bed like that. Maybe if she could just ask him not to put so much weight on her… But that would make him feel bad, she knew, so she stayed quiet. She needed to find the courage to give him more guidance, regain control of the situation, but she was having trouble speaking. He lowered himself down again, his mouth awkwardly on hers, and then his hand descended down her body, finding its way between her legs-

“Stop, I’m sorry, please stop, I can’t-” She was speaking rapidly without thinking, her need to get free overtaking her. She knew the second the words left her mouth that she had probably just fucked up big time, that he was going to feel terribly about this, think he'd done something wrong. She tried to backpedal immediately.

“I’m so, so sorry, it’s really not you, I’m just… I’m weird with this stuff. I need to… I can’t right now.”

“Oh,” he said. “Um, that’s okay.” He backed away from her awkwardly, rolling to lay next to her rather than on top of her. “I’m sorry, if I… did something.”

“No, no, you didn’t, you really didn’t.” God, what a mess. It was an amazing display of self-control that she was managing not to cry. Fuck. She had wanted to do this so badly, had been so sure she could handle it. Now she was hurting Steve’s feelings, and he was going to think she was insane, which she supposed she was, and he would never want to see her again. Just when she’d started feeling so, so good about this.

“Okay. Well, I didn’t mean to rush you, or anything. I thought you wanted to.”

“You didn’t.” She repeated. “I did. I just… I get nervous, I guess. I’m so sorry. I understand if you…” She didn’t complete the sentence.

“Oh. I get that. I’m nervous too,” he said softly, rolling over to look at her. 

She glanced sideways at him. "But you've done this before," she said quietly. 

"Yeah, but not with you," he answered as if it were obvious. "And you're... important. To me." He was still looking at her. God, why was he always looking at her like that, so lovingly, even when she was embarrassing herself? Her gaze returned to the ceiling. _Not with you._ Fuck. She was becoming less and less in control of her emotions, realizing she really was about to cry.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she whispered, getting up rather quickly and heading down the hall, grateful that her bathroom was a little ways away from the bedroom. She was crying by the time she closed the door, sliding to the floor with her arms around her knees. God, she was so humiliated, so angry with herself, so ashamed. She really thought she was over everything, that she’d manage to keep Steve out of it. Now it was going to ruin her relationship with the best guy she’d ever met. Steve had been her chance at a life that was completely separate from all this, and now she’d ruined that. She was really never going to be able to get over this. This was going to be her life forever. 

She stayed like that for a bit, crying into herself, wishing more than anything she could just be normal, not feel this way, not have this thing haunting her even all these years later. She’d really fucked herself up forever with that stupid mistake. If she hadn’t gone to that party, if she hadn’t had all that wine, if she hadn’t gone to the bedroom with him… if she hadn’t fucked up so bad she’d be living a nice, happy life and everything would be normal and her relationship would be amazing and she’d have a future with Steve. Instead, she was crying on her bathroom floor while he lay in her bed, probably feeling like absolute shit, because of one incredibly stupid decision she’d made that her broken her forever.

Finally, she wiped her face, knowing she eventually had to return and see if he was still in her bed. Maybe he’d just picked up his stuff and left. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face visibly red from crying, but then again she’d spent 15 minutes in the bathroom so he’d probably assumed that’s what she was doing anyways. And it wasn’t like this could get any more embarrassing than it already was. She started back towards the bedroom.

“Hey,” she said upon entering, her voice a little strained. “Sorry.”

“No, oh gosh, MJ, are you okay?” He was obviously alarmed, but he was still here, she noted. She tried not to let that get her hopes up. He’d gotten dressed again, and was sitting on the edge of the bed nervously. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m being super overdramatic.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. She was standing awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if he was waiting for her permission to leave, or something. He looked at her, his gaze making her cheeks feel warm.

“Do you want to go?” She asked finally. He looked taken aback.

“No! I mean, unless you want me to?”

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I want to. If it’s okay with you.”

MJ smiled slightly.

“It is.” She took a few steps towards the bed, realizing he wasn’t bolting for the door. Maybe there was hope after all.

“Can we… do you wanna shnuggle?” He asked, making her giggle. She wanted that more than anything, to feel his comforting warmth. It seemed almost too good to be true that he was asking, when she’d just embarrassed herself tremendously. She smiled with gratitude, climbing back in with him, curling her back up into his shape and feeling his arms over her protectively. His warmth washed over her, their bodies fitting perfectly together. This felt so right, so perfect. He had stayed. He had stayed for her, even after she lost it for a second, and he had still been there once she pulled herself together. She felt her nerves settle again, her comfort return. This was right. They lay in silence, MJ smiling to herself, feeling her breathing slow to match Steve’s.

“MJ.” Steve whispered. Then another moment of silence before he spoke again. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. 

“I love you too, Steve.”


End file.
